Mostly when I feel this way, I reflect on where the day went but …today, I feel different. I realize where did I go?

The realization that it is the first day of fall is wild to me. I looked at my calendar and backed through the past months. I had such big things this summer to do. I also had little things too. They ranged from writing to painting, to get the house organized and not live like a hoarder from A&E. To walk the dog more. To lose weight. To gain muscle. To, to, to…You can decide what is big or small. I accomplished none.none of those things.

What I did accomplish is to reflect on a summer fondly and forget that at times I wanted to strangle each child for fighting, and the dog for non stop barking. I accomplished surviving missing a spouse, to one that shows up at the cottage on a weekend and uproots our peace. Granted he only had a few days off and wants to do everything fun in those two days and we were in the lazy stages of summer so we were traveling different speeds. All this makes transitions hard. But worth while and good at the same time. All this makes forgetting to think about yourself. Easy.

In trying to keep it all together – I lost time. I lost me.

I sit and think what do I want? Who am I? Is this common or is this just me? I know that in some ways it is me. I am still not sure what I want to do when I grow up. I wish that someone would give me a small job to try out. Between 9-2 would be perfect. One minute I think that the medical field always called me – the next I think why do I not paint more like I used to? To I want to finally write a book. A real flopper I am.

Where did I go? How does one find themselves after they realize they are gone? I am not a person who wants to meditate and hear my voices tell me. I am not good at that. I am not someone that can figure that out either. I am good at wandering – running errands in all the best places. If I have an errand or chore I can do that – busy work. I am someone who needs to be needed it turns out. I am someone that needs interaction and with the kids gone it’s hard. It leaves me to much time to think. I am now my spouse traveling one speed all day long and hitting 90 mph at 2:45 as they enter the car. When that happens the best part of going 90? I don’t think about me.

It is the quiet times, they are killing me, I just start to think about where I went. I think who am I…what will I do in the future? I start to see my age, and my non accomplishments. I just start to think to much. If you say start cleaning…yep. tomorrow.

Start doing that list from the summer. Yep, tomorrow. For some reason I can not get myself to do it. I need some sort of great motivation. I need to be able to follow through. I need to find myself….how will I do that…

oh look, where did the time go? I HAVE to run off to pick up kids …

I am back and will at least try to write once a week. My head is to full!

Over the last year I have thought about all the uses of social media – I have more recently had more thoughts due to the death of a social media princess. Peaches Geldof has passed. Many of you are like who? Well, as one old pal put it – I saw this and remembered your unhealthy obsession with her father and thought of you – ha ha!” It is true. NOT the unhealthy part but when I was 14 I started following everything the Geldof family had done and would do. (yes the rest of you followed “cooler” people…but, I digress ) This was hard and wild back then since there was no internet – gasp! AND they would give me a zillion things to follow since then. Good, Bad and just life. I have been following Peaches from her teen years and in the last few as a mother, wife, and found her so interesting. I joined Instagram to follow her years back 🙂

My point…now that she has passed she has exploded. Just like other stars do when they pass. Larger then life on social media. While some of us grieve her – not because we thought we knew her but because her Instagram account was fun, real (parts were), it was motherhood, rock and roll…and it was always there to look at during slow times of my day. I liked hearing the accents, I liked seeing her messy kids, her house, her pets and thought it was great she took her kids outside, parks, showered them with kisses etc…

In the end did social media kill her? Do we only put up things that make us look good? Is that to hard to live up to once it is out there? Behind all the posts, photos are we still lonely and afraid or dealing with problems to ugly to post? I have friends who post things that are amazing – their families do amazing things, their kids are amazing. Enter real world competition. Does it make ME feel like I have to do the same? I am sure if your competitive it does. Me? NO. I am far to lazy. I am guessing it could make you feel stressed, or like your failing. Me? nO> My kids are no prizes. I love and adore them. Do they make me cry? Yes, sometimes. Do I feel overwhelmed by wash – always! Do I loathe the dishwasher – YES. Do me and husband fight? Duh. Do I feel the need to hide and act like everyday is wonderland. NO. But I do not think that I am the norm. I think that people see things and put out “better” things. How hard must that be to be “on” all the time. What does that take from your family in real life? How tiring.

I have followed so many blogs – famous ones – everything is rosy and they have a few “bumps” then boom they are divorced from their spouse and don’t want to talk about it and go on writing flowers and sunshine. They don’t mention their spouse is out of work, screams all the time, their kids are eating crap food and having fits…etc…That is so hard to live up to you take everything for REAL they say. You are having a horrible day and they have redone a room in perfect Pinterest style in an hour – seriously?

We say all this has media made us different – people are more fake than ever. I am not sure. I can agree and disagree. In some blog/post cases definitely yes. Life is not all that perfect EVERYDAY. Do I see the false things around me YES. I would like to think that it has some positive too. I think that maybe others take it in a good way – they are pushed to live the truth and are pushed to do better – is that bad? If I know others are doing stuff – i.e.: taking kid to the park – do I feel the need to go because it makes me look good or do I go because – “hey, you know that is a good idea.” – in honesty I do neither. BUT, I would like to think that some people watch social media and get a good thing from it, they are the “hey we have not done the park lately, after seeing that – yes, let’s do it”. They do try new things and try to be better parents, better people, do random acts of kindness, a craft that is not something they would do, but looks fun.

Is today any different then the age people knew your status because you had a fur? Your kids had sweet petticoats? You knew your social status by what people had on and what jewels and how their kids dressed. By what is at the bake sale. Now, you know it came directly from Pinterest 🙂 Now days, people dress more the same – in my town at least – or in the airport anyway – HECK everyone in the airport, has airport wear on – Lululemon. Are we followers yes, but now it is harder to see who who’s. There are no furs around here. Does social media make us try harder to do different. Is it sometimes not about doing different to outdo one another but to stand out on our own? Is it something that we can use to not feel alone with dishes to the ceiling.

I just want to think that it does has a positive side.

I would like to say – in down times/plain times: like a death or lost pet or child rearing issue, wanting to buy something – Social media can rock. When I felt lost without my mom, people were there, immediately… My cousin is starting a board for people who lost moms…we are not alone…that is classic people helping people. When a recent family member lost a pet, a few posts spread like wildfire and the pet was found. When buying a new bed – many have great insights. This is the good stuff, Right? We should remember not to use it to jump conclusions, spread bad things, or just to impress. Long lost friends reunite. Families can see cousins grow, see when an aunt is on vacation and feel that they know their family, even if 1,000 miles apart. And sometimes it is just fun. Pinterest is just a modern magazine at times when we are some place and can’t look through one.

I hope today you speak a bit of the truth today at least once before you mod podge a chair and think of a positive use of social media – a random act of kindness (even if it is just saying something sweet on someone’s photo or page).

– and yes, I will try today too…but, I will also continue to watch and find out what happened to Peaches. Because that is sometimes what I do – watch.

I would like to think that I do. I would like to think that in my life I am. Most likely – I do not.

My dishwasher – which is my least favorite appliance needed some extra attention (again) but instead of ignoring it again…i took it all apart and paid extra attention to Each and every part. I took it all and cleaned each sprayer hole, i scrubbed the inside…did it work better today? no. But I paid attention to it and it’s results…

I tried my hardest to listen to my middle sons stories yesterday – after the third story that made no sense and had nothing to do with what we were talking about – i stopped paying attention – to only be called out on it. Busted.

When in stores that I frequent – I go out of my way to ask people how their days are, see how the season is treating them…but as I look around I see millions (okay not millions) that are not paying attention. People walking on front of others, blocking aisles. Just plain being rude. It makes every fiber hurt in me…if only we would not be so self important and PAY ATTENTION to others…

When I go to conferences tomorrow, i will tell myself to pay attention to each child’s conference. It will be hard, and at times feel boring. I know that i should not say that but – I will pay attention to what they say about each one – and not compare. I will pay attention to how I can help.

Last night when i came home from a store – i saw that beam of light – It said, you may not pay attention all the time but there are great things around us.

As it snows for the first time, instead of freaking out – I will pay attention to see if i can see the land change.

Where I won’t pay attention? to the mess the old dog is making, the screaming and the cold coffee. Those things if I pay attention to – well could make me batty. So yes i will pick and choose what i pay attention to-

But as Thanksgiving approaches, i ask you to PAY attention. And yes – pick and choose…

We all have them. You know you have heard others refer to them, talk about them…Where were you when… When did you find out …

For me, I love the stories that go with them. Moments. I love how people’s faces look, I love the feeling you get when you see someone talk about a moment and just beam from the inside (maybe not even from the outside) or the look of reflection. The reason they are a moment is that they have permanently etched themselves in us. They are left there due to a strong emotion – fear, joy, love, pain, confusion. They were left inside for a purpose. Sometimes it is hard to see the purpose but you have to look.

These things can range from small-to- HUGE. These moments, they stand out bigger then all others, are the real zingers. “Jenny, I have cancer”. “Your mom just took her last breath”.

Those moments make me SPIN, take my breath away, and immediately produce tears, when I think of them. They make my insides ache just like you were back in that exact time. My finding out that I was having each child (pregnancy) was huge…being asked to be married was huge…but somehow the passing of my mom – BIGGER> and seems to be more & more so each year – because you see how that person stopped in that moment and all they are missing out on since. They are missing each little thing that creates those moments.

Today, Three years ago…a women that created so many of my moments passed away. She is missed so much it is incredible. What she left is moments…and one is the biggest one of my life – her death…but instead of dwelling on that – I am going to choose today to remember at how good she was at making other moments GREAT.

She LOVED news, no matter what – oh I passed an exam, I am dating, pregnant, etc… She was the first call you got on special days – Happy Birthday, Happy Anniversary, Happy first day of ….She was YOUR first phone call because she helped create the mood, and that later would make that call a moment. I want to be that person. I want to be the first call…because I am that first call, feeling is the one that makes it all real and worth remembering…I keep going to create moments for my family.

Today mom – I miss you – I treasure you – and I am thankful for you. I will do my best to create little things today that my kids will remember and that in the future, will make me their first call…

Life with kids is a different one each day. Now I know you day DUH. but it is nuts how a day can be so different.

My household is usually calm…wait no it is not. We have our moments of doing what your suppose to – being where your suppose to …but we also have our all out fighting. It is crazy at times. The noise – the stupid stuff they fight about. THE amount my kids fight. It can feel endless.

BUT it is amazing. When something happens how we all come together. Really together.

My youngest had shelving fall on him – part of a closet system. And really cracked his noggin. We had to call the ambulance due to blood, kids, snow, and his lack of being him (sleepiness)…the other kids not only ROSE to the occasion – they went beyond. Quickly finished making their lunches for the day (that when I heard the crashed I dropped completely and ran) got completely ready for the school bus all without a single direction. They were scared but kept going…amazing. truly. I am so proud of them today. I had the most stress and the most pride all in one day. A day after I thought they would never get along and never would our house not have fighting…I was wrong. What a difference a day makes.

They saw their brother go out the door on a “bed” and remained calm. Tonight we talked about it and they were so understanding and caring it was truly amazing.

life with kids. it is different each day. no doubt we will be eating one another again tomorrow now that the littlest is going to be fine. bring on the thunder-dome.

Well here it is a new year, new chapter, new season basically…HAPPY 2013!

This is the time of year we have all our resolutionsCOME and GO all within days, minutes, hours.

I will not care about weight.13 Oreos later, the guilt, the icky feeling sinks in. I will never be in a swimsuit again. I am a loser…etc…only to reach for another.

I will not drink another drink for a while, had to many during the holidays…13 hours later a friend stops by whom you have not seen during the holiday season – you think…come on, I did not have one with HER, so I must indulge in one glass of wine (x4).

I will not buy one more thing, this season was costly.13 minutes after the kids are in bed, you find a cookbook, a must have Mascara, and one little Lego man your kid has been looking for – all online…next thing you know you have hit submit.

I will make sure to send birthday cards this year. Acknowledge the loved ones I have and their special days. You realize on day two, 13 minutes into Facebook – you have already missed someone special (via Facebook none the less)…you realize your still a shumuck.

I will get all laundry folded and put away asap.13 trips to the basement, your fourth load is going and as you pull some stuff from the dryer and you think…why make the trip up now, that other stuff will be done soon, meanwhile adding a fifth ( I have two set of washers THANK GOSH), then a sixth and yes you have it all folded but just on the wash room table. Now the piles are to big to want to carry up.

I will not be petty and let people get to me. You realize you want to explode at just the sound of a person’s voice, and it was just from an email. Lost that one 13 minutes after being on your computer.

I will keep my cool with my kids all the time.13 minutes after handing them markers and reminding them that you only write on paper, one comes to you and says that they saw another just write on a wall in the hallway. Your head feels like it is going to explode…you do okay though.

I figure my list could go on and on. What I say to myself is: that instead of stead fast resolutions that I should be telling myself: Just try again – starting now, and again in 13 minutes. Just trying is just as hard at times. Just try to understand someone you don’t like, try to get why a kid would want to write on a wall – it is a large canvas, just try to make a healthier meal – maybe with a new cookbook.

It is really is all we can ask, Do the best we can do, and sometimes it will boil down to you smiling to yourself as you dunk your OREO in the best WINE you have.

So here is the low down…today I was in a store. Apple store to be exact.
An employee asked me to take my winter hat off. What? I asked Yes, my hat. So cut to the chase: she wanted to see my hair. Yep. My hair. Then proceeded to tell me about hair and her albino grandmother…her boyfriend with the long luscious locks. And how hair this/that…when first asked to take my hat off I actually said “not sure where this is leading but I will not remove my shirt in this store after my hat just so you know.” (she did chuckle, well more of a nerd snort)

I have a HAIR thing. I am not fond of my hair. I had hair color. I had wave/curls/body – when I had color. I had different hair at one time. When younger I was not fond of that color either but looking back, as we all do from time to time…I think that I should have LOVED it. (Much like my butt, knees, eyebrows, fingernails…)

As I aged my hair changed. By the time I got married I was fully white – well not fully but in the back it was still darker (some call it DISHwater – pretty right? NO? come on well, it kind of was- now that I have NO color, in most certainly was. DISHwater is more of a color then WHITE-ish (not dawn blue dishwater, that is a whole different dishwater). I got just plain ol tired of coloring it. The money/ the upkeep. Way to much for lazy me.

So, I just let it go. IT went and some.

Then I started to not like it so – I went through a series of trials to color it.

First time – I went professional – it did not work well. My call with my mom was her just laughing and laughing and laughing…a week or so went by and my Nonny passed away and I knew if I went to that funeral with that hair result – well it would have been the death of me as well, my mom would have been Horrified. But, in the end I had PAPAYA colored hair – yes you read that right. I went to things with this hair. THIS fruit-a-fied color. A fruit. It was so pretty, great, not noticeable terrible. First I had the funeral and while in chicago, I ended up at a crate and barrel and the worker there (what is with workers and my hair) mentioned he LOVED my hair color but they were not allowed to have UNNATURAL hair colors so he could never do that…sweet, sweet man. I ended up going back in to the salon and she put in “highlights” to lessen the overall orange/pink fruit cocktail I was sporting…it was then, we got the call that the Read Family was doing a family photo. Yes I am in it. Yes I look like a clown. Yes it is bad. UPSIDE they failed to put me in the end so there is no way to cut me out of the photo! I am there…I had officially left my mark. an Orange/Pinksherbet streak of goodness, nodoubt.

Last time – right after having Theron, as many of you will attest – the BEST time to make major decisions on hair, I figured I could do no worse than the professional. My younger brother was getting married. I did want to look like the OLD sister, still overweight from Theron, and looking, feeling dull white haired and lame. So I colored it. OMG (as the hip kids say) it was horrible, festive, shocking, just plain wrong. It turned a lovely shade of Gothic Black. AGAIN, I knew my mother would kill me, she’d laugh first but – the killing would take place in a slight slow way – with looks and side comments. Do you hate your brother? Did you not think of all the people we would see, no no they will love it. Theron cried, he did not recognize me…I am sure I cried harder. I went got another kit (again decisions are just snapping left and right, no harm coloring hair three days in a row right?) – lighter of course but, still WORSE…Finally – Gave in (my theme) called the professionals. Now, if you get your hair did, done, do’d…you know that there are rules…Never cut your own, Never Cheat on your stylist, and don’t screw with hair color…Stylists HATE that kind of stuff…she did what she could…I ended up with what the professionals call, prepare for the high-tech term: COTTON Candy hair – yes similar to papaya but now it just pulls apart off your head. I of course wanted to avoid looking a spinster but it turns out I looked more like one then ever…she finally said – well, I can get it back white, BUT I will have to cut it – not just cut it – CUT IT. FINE! well it ended up to be about ? less than to almost an inch long all over…IN the end…instead of looking old – I looked like the porky white boy in a strapless dress. UPSIDE: people thought our family was so NOUVEAU…(you make your assumptions)

I stopped. Stopped. That and my hubby saying “really? do you want to touch your hair ever again? Leave well enough alone”. See being married to the black and white man has its privileges, UPSIDES…he has the knack of making you hear ‘DUH’ every time he tells you something or ‘told you so’.

I then decided I liked it. I had the same hair color as basically my dad, my aunt, my papa, it was a family. It tied me to them. It for the first time, something I should remember makes me Unique. Not everyone has WHITE-ish coloring. I had my mom’s color. This was something people commented on. As my mom got ill, I loved that we had similar features, especially our hair. It meant she was mine. We shared something not jut emotional but physical. When she lost her hair, I felt like I should carry for her I wore it as a torch – In her honor. She wondered if her hair would grow back that color and was thrilled as starting to come back that color. I thought – I SHOULD love this, she does. wear it well. Still have not found a style but am still wearing it.

So, here I am. White-ish. It is just me. I am constantly being asked questions about it. I miss having my mom around to show people (still have dad, aunt to share with) but for some reason when mom was there it was a bond bond. Where do I get it colored? Do they do something special? Do I like it. I never really know how to answer then – no no no sometimes all come out as answers. I do feel washed out, pale, plain…and yes do I miss pigment. Yes, many days I do wish I had honey hair with luminous highlights. Yes. Yes. Yes. But some badges that you wear are not as shiny. They flash internally. I wear my badge with my white hair.

Am I Going to do anything about it.. NO! Turns out in my book – the grass (hair) does turner greener…but sometimes it is not the shade of grass – but the quality, and who planted it.

p.s. I promise to find photos, just did not have time tonight. I promise.